Thinking about my future
by f.f. lindy
Summary: Ben thinks about his past and future with Leslie: The infamous missing moments from Halloween Surprise.


**A/N: The Olympics break is killing me, and another Valentine's Day alone got to me. So, here is my rendition of the missing hours in "Halloween Surprise." I hope you enjoy.**

* * *

"Take the night. Just think about your future," Jen said, taking my beer and leaving me in the silence with my thoughts.

I looked across my desk, thinking about the compliment I'd just been paid. It wasn't often that anyone commended me on my work like that. It made me feel terrific. Unlike a screw up kid-mayor, or a mean auditor, I felt useful, generative; I felt needed. I felt like doing this for as long as I could convince Jen I was good enough to do it.

Then, my eyes fell on a post-it note suck to the surface of my desk. "I love you" was scrolled across it in Leslie's perfect cursive. She'd left it there to surprise me when she visited last, and I didn't have the heart to move it. It reminded me of her; even when work was miserable and I missed her like crazy, she still loved me.

* * *

I went home that night feeling like shit. For the fourth time in less than 2 years with this woman I was forced to make a decision I didn't want to. Work or love? How Freudian.

I pulled a beer from my fridge to replace the one Jen had confiscated and looked around my apartment. Despite the fact that I'd known for weeks that I would be leaving soon, things weren't packed. Instead, they were mostly strewn around the place, a pile of empty boxes in the corner as a reminder of the work yet to do. I was an expert at last minute packing from years of practice. And besides, the apartment had never really felt like home. I hadn't really had a "home" in years. My entire adult life had been this way. Hotel to hotel. Shitty apartment to shitty apartment. Two month increments of life, then onto the next town.

The thought tugged at my mind that a move to Florida wouldn't be so bad. It would just be more of the same lifestyle I was already so good at. New place, new people, new temporary life. Until just a few days before, though, I'd thought that this move would be my last for while. I'd thought I was headed for a permanent life. Leslie had sent me photos of the house she'd put down a deposit on. It was a home. It had a fireplace and wood floors. Most importantly, it had her.

Feeling my stomach in a knot, I took a sip of my beer then grabbed a box from the pile in the corner and moved to my desk. It was a junky little particleboard thing that had come with the furnished apartment I rented in DC. As if they knew that anyone renting a studio apartment in this city would be booking some serious hours of work from home. Starting with the bottom drawer, I emptied out some files. I moved the neatly organized bank statements and receipts in folders, insurance documents, and owner's manuals to the cardboard box. The next drawer was extra checks and flash drives, graph paper, ballpoint pens. None of these things had moved from their tidy spaces since I arrived, but I put them in the box none the less. Then, the top drawer. I tossed post it notes and highlighters, thumb tacks and staples, all on the top of the growing stack in the box. Finally, I reached my hand to the back of the drawer and retrieved two small boxes. Frankly, if I'd remembered they were there I wouldn't have let myself start packing the desk, but it was too late. There they were, in my hands.

I flipped open the flat wooden box and let a groan escape me, as if I hadn't known in opening it exactly what I'd find, and exactly how it would make me feel. A four-inch replica of the Washington monument still sat in a bed of fabric. I'd wanted to put it out on display to show my appreciation, but every time I saw it, it just made me wince. Seeing it again made my guts fill with regret. She'd loved me enough to let me take this chance. She'd let us put our life on hold, when we'd never even gotten a chance to have a real, normal life. I hated myself for doing it. I hated that I hurt her. I snapped the box closed and set it aside, trying to force those ugly feelings from my mind. I turned my attention to the second stray box. I ran a thumb over smooth surface of the square box before pulling it open. A diamond sparkled up at me in the dull light of my apartment and I became aware of the half smile creeping onto my face. I imagined, for just a moment, her eyes twinkling at me. "We could just say screw it," I mumbled to myself, and leaned back in my chair, leaving the ring box open on my desktop.

Scurrying away a diamond ring is not something I ever would have imagined myself doing. Raised in the household I was, I have been committed to the idea of never getting married since I was about 15. I was 5 when my parents finally called it quits on marriage, but their divorce wasn't one of those splits that made things better. For some people divorce is a good thing. Once they're out of one another's space, they don't have to love each other any more, they can be civil, split time with the kids and just be glad not to be married anymore. My parents weren't like that. Instead, their time apart seemed to just make things worse.

It's not that my parents ever flat out told me to deal with problems with others by being a passive aggressive asshole like they were to one another, but I learned just the same. In fact, nearly every half assed attempt at a relationship I made for 2 decades ended the same way. She pisses me off, so I throw her out of my life. End of story. And it had always worked. A decade as a state auditor, moving from one town to the next to be the hard ass just made this pattern easier to keep. Move to town. Date. Get mad. Stop talking. Move away. Repeat.

But then there was Pawnee, and Leslie. For the first time in years I made some friends other than Chris who seemed to put up with an awful lot of my bullshit. When I took the Assistant City Manager position, I'll admit there was this little part of me thinking that maybe I would break the cycle. Maybe Pawnee was the place where I turned it around.

I knew that I shouldn't have done it that night when I gave in and kissed Leslie for the first time. Partly, I knew it was bad idea because we were both rule followers, now sort of on shaky legal ground. But part of my hesitation was because I didn't want to end up hurting her. I was so totally smitten with her, and liked her so much as a human being, that I really didn't want her to be just another fight. Though somehow the delusion in my head that Pawnee was my great turning point, and that everyone deserves to break a rule from time to time, made me do it anyway.

And then for a while, things were so good. But, they always are in the beginning. Those first few little tussles are easy to get past, even if you are all screwed up. Fights that can be solved with a whipped cream covered waffle aren't real fights. Secret hook ups during which you live in a hotel are just about the level of non-committal relationship I can handle. But I felt myself falling for her. I was falling for her so hard, and I could see her falling so hard for me, that I knew this could break her when things went sour. So, when I had the chance to end it, I did.

I gave her that campaign button, I gave her my blessing, and I let her go.

The only problem with this grand chivalrous gesture was that I didn't really forgive her for taking it. And that's not a fight that you can solve with a waffle.

Here I had taken a job in a nothing town for _her,_ and she abandoned me. She chose her career over me. I seethed about it for months, loving her so much, but not liking her one bit. I knew I wasn't being fair, not only holding a grudge against her for a stupid reason, but refusing to tell her that I was. Every time I saw her all of that anger melted away and I just wanted to kiss her. But if she wasn't in front of me, captivating me with her smile, all I would think about was how I never wanted to see her again, that retched, egotistical, beautiful, kind woman.

My parents sent me to my first shrink I was 8 years old, so I've had a lot of years of being reminded that I should try being direct and honest, rather than bottling it all up. So, in the spirit my expensive therapy, I tried. I told her that this wasn't going to work, that I couldn't be her friend. It hurt her, but it killed me. It was just what I'd feared I would do. It was just what I'd known I would do. So, I decided to go with an old standby, I tried to run away.

After the model UN conference, I went home and spent 6 hours looking for jobs as far from Pawnee, Indiana as I could find. The pattern was so familiar that I felt like I was on autopilot as I prepared mentally for a new life in a new city. Move to town. Date. Get mad. Stop talking. Move away.

But then something incredible happened.

She didn't let me.

No woman had ever, ever held on so tightly when I backed away. No woman had ever seen me try to push her away and wanted me anyway. I called her names and I hid from her, I told her I didn't want her in my life, and she just kept trying. This woman, this amazing, bizarre woman, coaxed me into meeting her in Indiana's smallest park in the freezing cold so that we could _talk_. And I showed up. My childhood therapist would have been so proud.

Although I hadn't even told her that I loved her yet, I know the precise moment that I decided I was going to marry Leslie Knope. I was standing in that stupid tiny park and she was wearing that red wool coat, and it was cold as hell, and she said, "We could just say screw it." I met her eyes and saw that they didn't have that sparkle, that life, which I had come to expect. They were dull, sad, and scared. She looked like a woman defeated, like a woman on her last legs of life, and it was my fault she was there. But that was the moment. I just knew. Anyone who could make me feel like that, who could be so totally sure I was what she wanted when I was at my worst, who could do something this brave, was _it._

Perhaps it was not the most financially responsible decision I've ever made, but two days later, after I disgracefully resigned, and Leslie was awaiting her verdict, I went out and bought her engagement ring.

Then, I went home to wait for her.

When I got there I found April and Andy sharing a sandwich on the couch, these hair-brained kids who had been dating for less than 2 months when they surprised us with a wedding. I realized that I was being irrational. Yes, it had been almost a year since I first kissed Leslie, but I could not, reasonably, propose to a woman I had only been dating for two days. I was not an Andy, she was not an April, and even if I loved her a lot, I could not propose like a bonehead. Instead, that night, I got to kiss her in the snow. I got to tell her that I loved her, and I got to be the kind of man she deserves.

In the chaos of the election, the victory, and my move to D.C. the ring had faded from my thoughts. We had both been so busy building our professional lives, there just wasn't any time for worrying about marriage. In my mind, we were already engaged, and had been for months, she just didn't know it yet.

That thought sparked inside me like the last flash of light bulb burning out. As I sat there slumped at my desk, looking at a blank white wall in another shitty apartment without her, I realized that I already knew exactly what I wanted in my future. Her. Not Florida, not a campaign victory, not Jen giving me a pat on the head. Her and only her forever. I'd known it all along.

I reached for the flat wooden box that contained the Washington monument and removed the statue, tossing it loose in the cardboard box beside me, its power over me somehow broken. I nestled the ring inside the larger box and stood up, a burst of adrenaline now rushing my movements. I selected enough things from my closet to fill my biggest suitcase, grabbed my briefcase from the table where I'd left it, and walked out the door.

Grateful for a full tank of gas, made it half way across West Virginia before the day caught up with me. My heart that had been ready to beat out of my chest when I got on the road was no longer pounding with such a vengeance. My racing thoughts had slowed to a halt. It was almost 2 in the morning and I felt my blinks growing longer. So, I pulled off the interstate and found a hotel for the night, falling asleep in my suit from the day before, and setting my alarm for the early morning.

When I opened my eyes the next morning realizing where I was, and where I was headed, the adrenaline hit me again. I was almost an hour into my drive at 7:50am when my speakers blared with sound of my phone ringing. I knew exactly who it was. Leslie for our drive to work phone call.

"Good morning," I greeted her, trying and failing to act casually. My mouth was suddenly sticky and dry and I couldn't think of any words. My once-racing mind felt entirely vacant.

"Hey," she said, sounding just a little more distant than usual. "How are things going?"

"I'm fine." I fumbled to put the words together then fell awkwardly silent.

"You didn't call last night. I was a little worried. Is everything, alright? You know I started thinking, and then I was worrying but I didn't want to bug you and…"

Curses flew through my mind but didn't make it out of my mouth. I hit the steering wheel with my fist unintentionally hard and make the horn blare. I sucked in a fast breath. I'd forgotten our evening Skype call. The call that was usually my favorite part of the day had slipped my worried mind.

The sound of the horn stopped her. "Was that your horn?"

"Me… uh, mine? No, you know DC drivers. Just some jerk next to me." Again, my mind was blank. _Hold it together, Ben_, I told myself.

"Oh, yeah. City traffic. I bet it makes you miss Pawnee?"

"Yep," I uttered, more nonchalantly than I'd intended. A thought whizzed back into my mind and I trapped it. "Oh, yeah, so last night, I'm so sorry. I just got tied up in all that about Florida and thinking about moving, and then I started packing, and time just got away from me."

"Oh, okay, I understand," she said, although it was obvious that she didn't. "I just thought, you know, that we could talk about the house and stuff. We got approved so it's supposed to be ours as of next week. But, if we're not… I just need to know what to tell the relator."

"Sweetie, I just…"

But before I could say anything she cut me off. "You know, let's just forget it. Maybe this isn't the right place. It's really not that great anyway. Well, it really is that great, actually. But there are other great houses, and we can just look together, when the time is right, you know. It's… really don't worry about it. I meet with Martha today and I'll just let her know." She was playing up the most enthusiastic upbeat tone she could muster. "You know, honey, I'm sorry, I've gotta go, okay, I just parked at work and I've just… I've gotta go."

"Okay," I said. "I love you. I love you and I like you."

"I love you, too," she said. And with that the line went dead.

Flustered and frantic and feeling a little like I'd just been kicked in the guts, I found the phone number for the Parks and Rec department in my phone. I could tell she'd called from the car, and estimated if she really had just parked, I had about three minutes before she made it to the office.

"Hello," I heard what I assumed to be Andy's voice on the other end of the line.

"Andy?"

"Hu?"

"Andy, it's Ben."

"Hey, Ben, how's it going?"

"Good, good." I rushed. "Hey, Andy, I need for you to do me a favor, and it needs to be a secret okay?"

"Okay, yeah man, my lips are sealed. Your secret is safe with me. I'll take it to the grave. Well I mean, may not the grave because I'm thinking, you know, like cremation, or maybe like that thing where they take your body and the compress it down really hard and they make like…

"Andy, Andy, Andy," I blurted out, "it's gotta be fast, okay. I need you to look at Leslie's calendar for the day and see what time she's meeting Martha, the relator. Can you do that?"

"Um, yeah. I'm her assistant. Of course." I heard him shuffling papers frantically.

"Andy, go into her Outlook calendar. You can access it from your computer. It should have her name on it."

"Oh, yeah, okay. I know that. Hey, could you hold on just a sec?"

"No, Andy, this is…"

"April!" I heard him shout. "How do I get Leslie's calendar."

I listened as April showed him how to pull it up on the screen.

"Okay, we are in business, sir. What time would you like to come in?"

"Just, Andy, could you tell me what time she meets with Martha? It might say something about a house, or a relator."

"Okay, at noon it says, 'say goodbye to dream home.' Would that be it?"

"Yeah, that's it. Thanks Andy, and remember. Top secret okay?"

"You got it."

"Thank you."

I hung up the phone and let go of a deep breath. Then, I went back to rehearsing what I would say.

* * *

When I pulled up outside the house I wasn't processing anything. While I otherwise would have been assessing the house that I was slated to move into, I was too anxious to think about any of that.

The door was pulled part of the way open so I wandered in and looked around. I heard voices in the back of the house and followed them into a bright room where I found Leslie standing in the family room. Our family room. My stomach did a summersault, suddenly more scared than I had been in years.

I watched her eyes light up and her breath catch as she saw me standing in the doorway. I knew she was going to start talking, want to talk or want to kiss, or want to converse with my butt. I knew there was no way that I could play it cool through pleasantries. I was holding onto the box in one hand behind my back and clenching my wrist with the other to keep it from shaking as I took a few strides towards her.

"Hey, didn't know you were coming back here. What are you doing?" she asked, in that squeaky way she does when she's excited. I tried to memorize that look of joy on her face. That look was for me.

Without allowing myself to think or fumble I took a knee as a part of my final stride.

"Oh my god, what are you doing?"

I swallowed to take hold of my shaky voice and responded, "Thinking about my future."


End file.
